


One-Shots or Something

by anAnonWrites



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, How Do I Tag, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2020-10-14 21:37:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20607731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anAnonWrites/pseuds/anAnonWrites
Summary: Various one shots that get made from time to time, usually in the middle of the night.





	1. How Do I Go About Loving You?

Love isn’t a perfect science. It _is _studied (erotology) and there_ is _a scientific definition (the emotion experienced when oxytocin is released in the brain, creating feelings of trust and affection); all signs would point to _love_ being a concept that Logan could understand, a concept that he could read about and be able to utilize. But Logan doesn’t understand. He was _logic;_ he spoke truth and science, not the language of the _heart_.

Of course, there were always different ways that people showed their love and affection for others, but to do that, one must _feel_ some sort of emotional connection to the recipient of that love. At least, that’s how Logan understood it.

Take Patton. His love was so open and abundant; he was figuratively a never ending well of warmth and positivity. He was literally the most loving person that Logan knew. How did he do it? Patton tended to _touch_ those he loved, whether it be through cuddles on the couch, or kisses on the stairs. Whenever one needed to hear it (or at any time), Patton would spout out _words of affirmation_ to comfort him. Not white lies, of course. They were from the heart. Literally, as Patton was the embodiment of Thomas’ heart and morality.

Virgil was subtle. Physical touch was difficult for him sometimes; affectionate words weren’t Virgil’s strong suit. What he _would_ do was give small gifts to those he cared about. CDs with music suited to the other side’s taste, stim toys. He’d spend _quality time_ with them, playing quiet music while re-reading Thomas’ old writing from Patton’s room, or simply resting his head in their lap.

Roman never ceased to express his love to people. He’d swoop down his partner down as if they in a ballroom, and give him a graceful and passionate kiss. Roman never treated his partner as less than a prince; he frequently performed what Logan deemed to be _acts of service_. His chivalry easily surpassed those of medieval knights. 

So what can Logan do? He has no place in the realm of emotion. It’s overwhelming with _feelings_ and _things he can’t understand._

How is he going to show them that he cares and that he enjoys their company?

_How does he go about loving them?_

He doesn’t know.


	2. Just A Show of Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Snake mention, Sympathetic Deceit w/ 6 hands, Platonic Analociet, Implied Royality, TS Remus Mention

“Deceit is like a snake.”

“A snake?”

“With hands.”

“Yes, he has hands.”

“But like, six of them.”

“Excuse me?” Logan looked at Virgil curiously. “Since when did Deceit have six hands?”

Virgil shrugged. “Since Thomas thought that he had six hands. It’s kind of weird, but funny at the same time.”

“‘Funny’? Virgil, I don’t see any humor in Deceit having six hands.”

“No, it’s funny Logan; just watch. Hey, Dee!”

The side appeared on the stairs where Virgil usually sat, sitting politely with two hands folded on his lap. But there was another pair, pouring a hot cup of tea. And there was yet _another_, holding a copy of _Antigone_ and a pair of reading glasses.

“Oh, well then. It’s not like I had anything _better_ to do. Spill the tea, Virgil.” The tea overflowed from the teacup, spilling onto the carpeted stairs. Wait.

“Dee, that’s carpet!” Virgil scrambled off of the couch and into the kitchen, returning to the common room with a wad of paper towels. The extra pair of hands holding the teacup and pot disappeared under Deceit’s cloak, then reappeared with a roll of paper towels. Logan sighed, getting up from his seat to help.

“First of all, I don’t believe that you used the phrase ‘spill the tea’ in the correct context, Deceit. (“Like you know any better”) And second of all, that’s not going to do anything,” he said blankly. “You can call in Roman to replace the carpet.”

“Oh yes,” Deceit scowled, “Like we’d disturb our wonderful Prince Roman while he’s going out and about with Patton doing who knows what.”

Virgil scrubbed furiously at the carpet, the stain only growing darker. “For once, I agree with what he said.”

Logan sighed and kneeled down, grabbed some towels from Deceit and started patting the ground gingerly. The spot was considerably darker than before the three had gone to work, and it wasn’t any drier. But now Deceit was here, and the three could sit in semi-comfortable silence reading their books. At least, until:

“So, Deceit. I never knew that you wore glasses.”

“I do not wear glasses, nor will I ever do so in my life.”

“He actually wears contact in the left eye. He had Remus make him a special snake one for it. His vision is actually horrible.”

“Please shut up.”


	3. Love Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relationship(s): Romantic Moxiety  
TW: Angst, Crying, Pining (?), Panic Attack, Sensory Overload  
Word Count: 628  
A/N: I’m in an angsty mood so here you go. Kind of based off of the song ‘Love Like You’ from Steven Universe and totally unrelated to the new movie. It’s written in two perspectives (Patton and Virgil, but mostly Virgil’s) so have fun or not or whatever I guess.

“But I love you.”

“Why though?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Patton looked up at Virgil pleadingly. _Please stay. Don’t leave. Don’t drift away._ But he did. As quickly as he appeared when Patton summoned him into his room, Virgil had vanished. He sank down onto the couch, his eyes welling up with tears. Why couldn’t he see the _good_ that was inside of him. He was _more_ than Anxiety. He was _good_. He was _needed_. He was special and perfect. But Virgil couldn’t see that.

Patton grabbed a pillow and yelled. He didn’t want to be too loud, so screaming was not an option; no one needed to know what he felt. Not even Virgil.

He dreamed of those days before he told Virgil. He dreamed of resting his head on Virgil’s lap and crying, letting his deeper emotions out. He wasn’t always happy; very few people seemed to understand that.

Virgil would’ve though. He would’ve held Patton close and murmured quietly into his hair, calming down the choking sobs.

He was sobbing now. Patton was crying violent, harsh tears and didn’t seem to stop. No one heard him. No one was there to comfort him.

Logan didn’t come in to try to talk though the situation.

Roman didn’t rush over to sing and calm him down.

Virgil wasn’t there.

He just wasn’t _there._

* * *

Virgil sat on the counter, fiddling with the cabinet handles. He picked up random cans, boxes and jars, twiddling them around with his hands. What was he going to do?

It seemed impossible for Patton to like him.

No, it didn’t _seem _impossible.

It _was_ impossible.

Patton was sunshine, joy and happiness with a deeper meaning, a hidden storyline behind the ‘main’ plot. Virgil just had yet to discover what exactly that hidden story was.

In the meantime, he let his mind wander around until it landed in the ‘bad zone’, a land that lacked any self-confidence and made major assumptions about how people thought about him.

Great.

_Patton just pities you. He doesn’t really love you. He’s just confused. His heart is in the wrong place. You should just give up on having him at all. How could he like you when he is perfect? You’re out of his league. You could do anything ‘good’ or help Thomas for once instead of being a hinderance, but he’d still be too perfect. Why do you even bother? _**_He_** **_doesn’t love you. You’re pathetic. You’re weak. You’re stupid and vulnerable and mean absolutely nothing to him-_**

“But it’s not true,” Virgil whispered into the dark to nobody. “It’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true it’s not true it’s nottrueit’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

** _It’s true._ **

He pulled himself off of the counter and onto the ground in a haze. He pulled at his hair and air came in in large, but uneven breaths.

“It’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

Why was it so hard to breathe?

“It’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

He couldn’t get enough air. It felt like he was suffocating under the nonexistent pressure.

“It’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

Why was it so hard to feel anything?

“It’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

He touched the tile floor and shivers ran up and down his spine, his hand pulling away as if the floor was burning hot.

“It’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

There was a ringing in his ears. At this point, his words had almost become a mantra.

“It’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

Who was speaking again?

“It’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

The room felt like its temperature dropped 40 degrees.

“It’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

His muscles were tightened and his hands well pulling, pulling, pulling.

“It’snottruetit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrueit’snottrue.”

_But I love you._

Virgil couldn’t move, but he heard Patton’s voice.

_But I love you._

“No you don’t.”

_But I love you._

“How could you possibly love someone like me?”

_But I love you._

“How, Patton?”

_But I love you._

“How?”

_But I love you._

** _How?_ **


	4. [Redacted]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relationship(s): N/A  
TW: Panic attacks, implied depression  
Word Count: 161  
A/N: Don’t you ever have one of those days? And yes I write stupid short fics please don’t @ me. (Not implying that character Thomas has depression. But these are the Sides I imagine when I fall into one of these moods.)

They pulled their hoods tightly over their heads, sitting back to back on the middle of the floor, scrunched up into small balls. Virgil’s fingers snapped incessantly, his feet tapping on the floor to an uneven beat. Patton shook uncontrollably, running his fingers in his hair and pulling, pulling, pulling.

Make them stop. Makethemstop. makethemstopmakethemstopmakethemsto-

“It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. I was too carefree. Too happy. Too much. Too much.”

“My fault. Never enough. Never enough. Why did I think I could leave them behind? Why? Whywhywhy?”

Shadows, whispers. Chills running up and down, up and down. Mouths dry. Throats hot and burning.

It is their punishment.

When your Heart feels too heavy to get up, but it is driven into a frenzy.

When the voice warning you for the Storm, but the Storm turns into a Hurricane.

_Tap tap tap_

_Bang bang bang_

_Crash crash crash_

It all comes crashing down at some point or another, doesn’t it?


	5. Pattoncake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relationship: DRLAMP (It’s not romantic and I will never write romantic remrom. Get over it.)
> 
> TW: Food throughout, Sympathetic Sides (including Deceit and Remus), pretend fighting, cat mention
> 
> Word Count: 738
> 
> A/N: Spoiler alert: At the time I’m posting this, it’s nowhere close to Patton’s Nameday. But it is the day after the TS Sides 3 Year Anniversary, so there's that?

Patton was having a great day.

He woke up, had a breakfast of the best loops (Froot Loops) and wandered around his room, smiling at all of the old memories.

But it was quiet.

Too quiet.

Where was the dramatic shouts and bickering coming from Roman and Remus’ room?

Where was the clink and clatter of Logan’s jars of Crofter’s and the mutterings of modern slang?

Where was the pounding music and heavy pacing from Virgil’s room?

Where was the quiet monologuing and clatter of teacups from Deceit’s room?

_Where was everyone?_

It was lonely without the other sides. This wasn’t how Patton wanted to spend his special day. _His_ _name day._

Patton had lost all track of time. It was now very late into the night. No one had visited him. No one had summoned him to them. No one was making any noise. Disappointed, he sank out of his room and into the common room…

Where all of his friends were waiting for him. Deceit, Virgil, Logan, Remus and Roman. All in one decorated room together, surrounding a cake.

_Happy Nameday to you_

_Happy Nameday to you_

_Happy Nameday to Patton_

_Happy Nameday to you_

It was a heart shaped cake, lightly frosted with blue and decorated with edible flowers. In decorative script, it read, ‘Happy Nameday to Our No. 1 Pop Star!’

“Ohmygoshiloveityoudidthisforme?” As the words tumbled out of Patton’s mouth, he rushed up to the other sides and held them close. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

“_Of course, Patton!_” Roman and Remus said. They glared at each other, trying to beat the other and hurriedly continuing, “_What else would we do for your nameday? Nothing?_”

Another glare.

“_I made the cake._”

“Remus!”

“Roman!”

“Stop copying me!”

They proceeded to have a pretend fight, shouting and grinning as they pulled out their mace and sword on each other, and trying not to actually hurt each other.

Logan came up, smiling. “I will say that they did work very hard on it.” He handed Patton a neatly wrapped blue box. “This is for you, from us.”

Virgil and Deceit gave each other a look. You know, the one your friends give each other before _another_ friend gives you a present. The look that says, “I love my friend and he’s going to love this so much. Gosh, he’s so sweet.”

The box was opened, and inside was a lovely leather bound scrapbook. Patton gasped, and walked over to the couch, sitting down in a daze as he flipped through the book. Scarps of paper and colored post-it notes stuck out, flagging down happy memories and jokes. The pages were filled to the brim with jokes and commentary on the many pictures inside. Each Side had used a different colored pen to mark their words.

Next to a picture of Roman trying to put makeup on Deceit was think dark purple writing, “Princey gives Dee eyebrows.”

There was a snapshot of Patton holding an armful of kittens, laughing his head off as Roman summoned more. Neat yellow cursive said, “This is definitely not the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen and I would certainly not want to see more of Patton with these kittens.” Dark blue print was crammed into a corner, “Wait, where did he get these kittens.”

Roman and Logan, smiling as they both dumped a larger than average serving size of Crofter’s onto their English muffins. Green was hastily etched in, “**_HoW Wild BWOOBerWEE WhOO nEW OuR BUFfonerRY CouLD BEAr FruIT DIvINE_**” and the dark purple reappeared beneath the “BWOOBerWEE”, saying, “Dude, you’re taking up the entire page.”

Patton sniffed as he kept navigating the pages, smiling and laughing. The Sides sat around him, some sitting next to him, leaning over to take a look; others draped over the couch, heads held in their hands as the peered down.

Patton was having a great day.

He woke up, had a breakfast of the best loops (Froot Loops) and wandered around his room, smiling at all of the old memories. He went into the common room and found his friends, ready to celebrate his nameday.

And now, it was quiet.

For they were all huddled together on the couch, falling asleep with their memories all gathered together in one book. The cake lay demolished on the table. The decorations started to fade away as Creativity fell into a deep sleep. All was quiet.

It was a great day.


	6. Fill the Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationship(s): LAMP
> 
> TW: Depression
> 
> Word Count: 273
> 
> A/N: Sorry for the unexpected and very long haitus. All one needs to know is that my mental health took a very sharp dip and I needed some time off from writing. Here’s some LAMP Patton Centered hurt/comfort to fill the void.

He can’t explain it.

He’s just been like this.

Broken.

Cold,

Empty.

It’s been like this for a while, and he can’t figure out why. They all look at him, waiting for the sun to shine through, for the smile like a dazzling light.

But it never came.

Eventually, someone sat down on the couch next to him. A hooded arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“Hey, [CNGGBA]? Are you there?” Stormy purple eyes. “[YBTNA], I can’t reach him.”

“He’s been like this for a while now, [IVETVY]. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“He isn’t. Look.”

An intellectual sat down on the other side. He peered over his glasses, frowning. “[CNGGBA]. We love you. We’ll be here for you. But-”

“We miss you, [CNGGBA],” added the hooded man.

Silence.

“What’s going on?”

“[EBZNA], we’re kind of in the middle of something here."

“Allow me to speak to Padre, Panic! At the Everywhere and Microsoft Turd."

“[EBZNA].”

The knight sighed loudly.

“All right then, [YBTNA].” He got down on one knee and looked up. “[CNGGBA], are you in there?”

…

“We are all going to be here. You can talk to us when you want to.”

…

A frown crossed the knight’s face before he stood up and wrapped both arms around him. “Warm hugs for my [CNGGBA].”

The hooded man joined next.

After a moment, so did the intellectual.

And so they all sat, wrapping [CNGGBA] in a warm embrace, never letting go.

Even as he cried.

Even as he whispered apologizes that weren’t needed.

Even as he fell asleep in their arms.

They never let go, only until they were sure the void was filled.


End file.
